


I Belong to Him (Siren Head Fanfiction)

by Alpha049_96



Category: SCP Foundation
Genre: Fantasy, Gen, Horror, Sirenhead, Thriller, anecdote, jacksepticeye - Freeform, siren head - Freeform, siren_head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24531031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alpha049_96/pseuds/Alpha049_96
Summary: This is based on the joke Jacksepticeye made about Siren Head being his dad. I somehow made it serious...
Kudos: 22





	I Belong to Him (Siren Head Fanfiction)

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Siren Head, and I am subscribed to Jacksepticeye; he is one of my favorite YouTubers! I hope those who read this at least know about Jacksepticeye's joke.
> 
> (I put this under the SCP Foundation Fandom, however, Siren Head is NOT an SCP.)

'I recall the case vividly.'  


Officer Henry Jones, a medium-built young officer with fierce blue eyes and chocolate-colored hair, awaits in his blue Charger. The vehicle sleeps beside a dirt road, his phone his only source of relaxing light. He scrolls through the digital file: "A family of 4 from Ireland mauled brutally by a grizzly bear, the father lacerated and disemboweled, the mother mutilated and consumed, and the oldest child lacerated and hemorrhaged. The youngest child, Seán McLoughlin, was not found dead. Witnesses at Pearl Lake State Park, Colorado, explain to notice a humanoid entity occasionally flee from oncoming people in the Park, late at night. The description matches the missing boy. However, it has been two years since his disappearance, and the sightings have been continuing. A more bizarre occurrence, campers have disappeared since then, and witnesses complain about a broken siren announcement late at night. There are no working sirens or P.A systems in the area for miles."  


Officer Jones shuts off his phone and immediately exits his vehicle. His eyes tear through the thin birch trees and the bright moon lights their colonial white bark. A campfire dances behind them, sixty meters away, tents perfectly hitched. The officer can see five forms sitting around it; more witnesses. The officer clicks a dark stick in his right hand, the flashlight emitting an intense, bright light -- mistaken for the power of a thousand suns to a hungover man. As he advances to the campsite, the officer can distinguish the humans as teenagers via physiques and obvious facade that masks their inner trouble.  


Most likely just pulling a fast one, Officer Jones tells himself. His boots crunch the twigs and leaves before his footsteps softly beat the dirt that surrounds the campfire. A boy with a prominent jawline and hard muscles stands.  


“Hey, officer, we’re glad you came,” the boy greets, politely shaking the official’s hand.  


“You all don’t seem shaken,” Jones informs. “Is this a prank?”  


“No, I swear,” a girl chimes, the fire glinting off her puffed, glossy lips. Her absurd clothing reminds the officer of city folk.  


“What are your names?” Jones asks.  


“I’m Aidan,” the boy who greeted the officer replies. “This is Cheyenne.” He gestures to the “city” girl. “That’s Aindrea, Jack, and Luke.”  


“The operator reported you spoke of a child allegedly matching the description of a missing child, along with a… staticky news broadcast?”  


Aidan nods. “Yes, sir.” The boy speaks with a polite demeanor, his hands clasped together in front of him. “The missing kid’s name is Seán, right?”  


The officer nods.  


“The thing is --”  


“The news broadcast reported five deaths in Pearl Lake State Park,” the boy named Luke blurts. His green eyes sporadically glance between his friends. “And then before it could get into detail… it -- it…”  


Aidan holds out a reassuring palm to Luke, the younger kid panting and hyperventilating. The girl named Aindrea hands Luke an inhaler, the boy immediately snatching the medicine and violently shaking it.  


“It broadcasted a man’s voice,” Aidan finishes. “It called Seán’s name a few times, then said ‘come home’.”  


“Then it made some weird, warbling sounds and then emitted white noise,” Jack replies, linking his fingers together in front of his goatee. “What frightens me more is that the park rangers said there are no speakers in the near vicinity, but there is one tornado siren… but it doesn’t work and I don’t see why it would be creating shit like that.”  


Jones frowns and wipes his nose. The officer’s mind ingests the information… but it sounded off to him. His doubt increases, as the teenagers fail to talk about the reason they called 911.  


The officer sighs. “What about the child?”  


“Poor thing,” Cheyenne pipes up, her tone holding an unusual condescension, but the officer doesn’t truly know if she meant it or not. “Kid looked no older than ten, his pants were ripped up to his thighs and he had no shirt. He was covered in dirt, and his blond hair had grown almost to his chin… when we saw him, we called out to him, but he shrieked at us, the little fr--” Cheyenne stops herself as Jones gives the teenager a glare. Cheyenne clears her throat. “He ran away, still screaming. He was barefoot…”  


“He didn’t appear to be hurt in any way.” Aidan looks around the campsite, at the mini, crackling sun in the center, at the pitched tents, and then to the darkness dwelling behind the trees. “Makes me wonder who or what has been taking care of him. I can understand someone surviving in these woods for about two months without major injuries, but two years without a single scratch?”  


The deputy nods, sharing the same confusion. “I can see the confusion, Aidan. Did he just scream, or did the boy say anything?”  


Aidan bites his lip and Jack speaks; “Yes. When he was a good distance away, I swear I heard him yell ‘dad’.”  


Jones frowns, and his heart immediately settles into his gut. Something isn’t right. “That… should be impossible. Seán’s father was killed from the bear mauling.” 'Perhaps it was an instinctive response, and Seán was terrified of something?'  


As if reading the officer’s mind, Aindrea mentions, “Maybe he was scared by something. Kid’s been livin’ in the woods for 2 years, maybe somehow, he grew afraid of large numbers of people. There’s five of us, no younger than sixteen, and there’s one of him, no older than ten. I can see the origin of his fear.”  


Jones nods. “I see.”  


“I don’t think two years is long enough for a kid to develop fear from people,” Cheyenne retorts blatantly.  


“It is when the kid can’t track time,” Jones subconsciously sneers at the teenager. “The kid had on some garment, you said, so I assume he would be taking from other campers?”  


“Could be. Would explain how he gets food,” Aidan muses.  


“Which direction did the boy go?” Jones readies his flashlight, his free hand instinctively grasping his holstered Smith & Wesson.  


Aidan points to his left, pointing east. “That’s where the broadcast came from, too.”  


Jones nods and frowns, noting the tornado siren is due northwest of this campsite, and not east. 'It can’t be the siren… what the hell is it then?' The officer strides past the fire, toward the darkness of the woods. His flashlight clicks its blue beam of light, the shadows weaving away in cowardice. The officer walks toward the thick treeline, spotting a narrow walking path in the woods. 'That might be where they saw him.' The fire was quiet enough for the officer to hear the nature of the night; crickets chirping, small rustling of breezing leaves, and the relaxing blue light the moon offers. Unfortunately, its light does not penetrate the treetops of the woods. The officer takes a step forward -- then his car blares some seventy meters away. His heart jumps and he snaps his form toward his vehicle, the teenagers appalled, but he doesn’t see the flashing lights of his alarm. Confused, Jones steps back toward the camp -- a massive, blue form crashes into two tents, the teenagers shrieking in unison.  


Jones doesn’t scream, but yells out in frustration, awe and fear as he realizes his car has crash-landed into the campsite. It’s front is crushed and crumbled like paper, its doors are loosely hanging, and the blue and red lights flash, but emit no sound. Jones slaps a hand to his mouth, anger boiling in his lungs and fear constricting his heart.  


The teenagers take this differently. They jolt from their seats and start panicking, Cheyenne’s annoying shrill shriek droning and Luke aggressively attacks his inhaler. Aidan, too shocked to react frantically, only steps back from the obliterated cop vehicle. He looks at Jones, fear contorting the boy’s face. Jones heavily breathes, and they all silent to a distant thud -- a heavy footfall.  


The air tears with a scream, not from them, not from anywhere, but it felt like it was within them. Jones flinches, the teenagers cover their ears. A deafening drone, a warning broadcast rapes the sounds of nature, collapsing their hearts as the serpent of fear constricts and consumes.  


A condescending man’s voice warbles in the broadcast, echoing through the mountains of Colorado. “Officials have been notified of six disappearances in the woods of Pearl Lake State Park, including one of their own, Officer Henry Jones. My, yes, he didn’t know what he was involved in, and such a shame he dragged five younglings along for his benefit. Don’t bother Henry, you won’t get that promotion.”  


The teenagers lift their hands away from their ears, but Jones feels the eerie voice linger in the back of his brain: “You will never find the boy.”  


Jones shakes his head frantically. He peers at the teenagers as the world falls deathly silent once again. They all appeared to have seen a ghost.  


Cheyenne breaks the silence with a late reaction, screaming as if someone was tearing into her chest cavity. Luke continues to abuse his inhaler, coughing and panting profusely. Jack comforts his asthmatic brother as Aindrea frantically tells Cheyenne to shut up. Aidan lowers his head, but Jones can still see the shocked features on the boy’s face. The teenager didn’t know how to ingest the recent event.  


“What the fu--” Aidan cuts himself off, panting and looking at Jones, seemingly glaring. “It… knows you?”  


Jones shakes his head violently, answering Aidan while snapping himself out of pure shock and horror. “N-no! How would I know what that even was?”  


Aidan scoffs, but a look of defeat conquers his face.  


Suddenly, the Earth silences. No breeze blows, no bugs chirp, and the moon hides behind a dark, ominous cloud. The fire crackles.  


Abruptly, trees snap, and a massive, bony hand slams into the fire pit. The teenagers scream at the large, mummified limb and the fire coughs sparks. Darkness consumes the panicking teenagers, as they and Jones flee into the tight trees. The kids follow Jones’ flashlight, Cheyenne absurdly screaming as she sprints. Luke pants, running as he once again attacks at his inhaler. His lungs burn, his legs weaken, but his mind panics as trees snap, creak and thunder behind him.  


“Luke, c’mon!” Jack shouts, skidding in his tracks.  


“Jack!” Aindrea screams, watching her friend sprint to his afflicted brother. Jack yelps and halts as his brother resumes to sprint again, shrieking as a birch tree almost smashes him. The moon appears, birthing light through the open treetops. Jack can barely see a massive, malnourished, mummified and humanoid form sprinting at them, it’s massive arms swinging and snapping trees like twigs. Jack snaps around and sprints with his friends, adrenaline pouring through his veins.  


The tall monstrosity screeches, static emitting from the two megaphone-like speakers on its thin, pole-like head. It was a sight to behold. Jones stops in his tracks, his hand whipping his gun from his holster.  


“Go, go!” the officer yells as three teenagers thunder past him. Luke and Jack scream and flee, but the creature is hot on their heels. Jones fires, the blast startling nature, the bullet clipping the beast’s arm. The creature doesn’t stop, but its pained screech assaults the air. Jones fires again. The monster expects it, the bullet clipping its shoulder. Its sickly jointed fingers tipped with jagged claws finally lash out as it lunges, snatching both boys in one taut grasp.  


Jones grits his teeth, his heart pumping as the massive entity lifts the struggling, shouting brothers higher into the air. Jones screams angrily, rapidly firing at the siren-headed monstrosity, small fragments of mummified flesh glancing off the creature. It only moans and then screeches in pain as Jones’ final bullet nicks the megaphone-like protrusion. The sound of metal ricochets and the monster menacingly snarls at the officer. Its grip constricts the boys together, the boys coughing and squirming as the creature’s strength begins to cease their airflow.  


With a loud and deep, droning alarm, the siren-headed creature lunges into the darkness. Its deep footsteps quake and shudder the earth, trees snapping and groaning, almost deafening the pleading screams of Luke and Jack.  


Jones’ gun clicks, muttering a curse under his breath. 'I should’ve brought more clips!' Jones yells at himself as he loads the final mag into his Smith & Wesson. His heart anchors as the brothers’ screams fade and suddenly cease, but the officer doesn’t fret. He turns, cursing again, and scurries after the three remaining teenagers.  


The kids still run, their shoes thundering along the path -- Jones’ heart jumps as the beast’s resounding footsteps abruptly become deafening. 'What the hell?'  


Jones skids to a stop, nearly falling. The three teenagers some fifty feet away stop, too. They snap around, their small faces vividly twisting with an expression that would have easily been fear, but their blood drains and their faces pale. It was something worse than fear. The creature’s roar -- not metallic and staticky as a broadcast or siren, but animalistic and fierce. Jones’ blood runs cold, freezing within his veins as his heart momentarily stops, too afraid to beat.  


“Let’s go!” Aidan yells, causing Jones’ blood to run warm and his muscles to snap into action. The earth quakes as the officer sprints and the teenagers also scramble to a racing start. The earth tremors with more tumultuous steps, trees screaming and groaning before their trunks are twisted from the force of the charging beast. Jones freezes almost instantaneously; the creature’s speed was inhuman for its size, outward limbs scrambling at a nearly incomprehensible speed. Jones’ throws himself back, escaping death befalling from a tree, its air breezing through his hair, its bark scraping the leather soles of his boots. The monstrosity behaves like a quadrupedal Jurassic predator, and Jones’ -- within the second of seeing its megaphone heads closely -- shivers. He narrowly misses protruding, blunt teeth, jagged and hungry as a long, tentacle-like muscle wriggles toward its prey. 'It has two mouths… in its two speakers… What is this thing?'  


Jones’ starts to regain his feet, his ears tensing at the blood-curdling screams of one of the girls. The officer instinctively snaps straight, pointing his glock toward the teenagers. Aidan and Aindrea had fallen and Cheyenne’s flailing legs disappeared into a megaphone’s mouth. Jones, too terrified and enraged to think about how the beast was able to fit the girl’s body down its pole-like neck ('And where is it’s stomach? It doesn’t appear to have organs!'), begins to rapidly fire at the beast’s speaker heads. He can hear his bullets ricochet from its sirens, and the beast pays no attention to the officer -- it has already adapted to the expecting pain. It lowers its two agape mouths toward the teenagers, the megaphone facing them snaking a thin, slender muscle toward its prey and it crawls with predatory precision. Aindrea screams, which resonates with anger and despair, her scream directed toward the monster. Her scream only seems to enrage the beast more, accepting the challenge, and it widens its protrusible jaws. Jones acts swiftly, firing the remaining bullets into the creature’s exposed ribs.  


The siren-headed beast staggers on its fours, lifting its abnormally long arm to shield its torso from the officer’s attack. It turns its circular megaphone toward him, and it screeches animalistically as its long tongue whips. The moonlight allows the officer to witness bloody saliva escape its widened jaws.  


Aindrea and Aidan scramble onto their feet, the boy helping the girl and they scurry into the darkness. The monster doesn’t care, its angered gaze -- if it had eyes -- directed to the officer, and he points his Smith & Wesson toward its open maw. The monster’s hand slams on the ground, its claws slicing the dirt as it arches its back and gains its stance, slowly and threateningly. The monster seems to puff its chest to stand boldly, its head (forty feet high in the air) seemingly glaring at the officer. It’s lanky arms nearly touch the ground and its sickening, decayed fingers twitch. The officer shakes in his boots, exhaling to calm his lungs and heart, his gun still aimed at the beast’s chest.  


'Only one bullet left.'  


He fires.  


Mummified flesh clips from the creature’s chest, but it only stands, not wincing or acknowledging the pain. Small, snake-like, external black veins writhe and wriggle around its thin neck and chest, the monster releasing a creaking growl from its megaphones. The officer collapses to the ground, curling and constricting his ears with his palms; the monster released a blaring, sequential alarm drone, much like an emergency power system.  


“… 4… 1…” The monster spats numbers in between drones -- then it stops. The earth silences, but Officer Jones doesn’t release his ears. The siren statics, and then broadcasts, “The boy is mine, Harry.”  


It lunges, mouths agape, and the officer screams.

****

Aindrea and Aidan pant, slapping leaves and twigs. The trees’ limbs strike back and slice their legs, arms, and Aindrea’s face. They don’t know how far they went, but once the woods resumed its natural chirping, they slowed down, finally realizing their lungs craved relaxation.  


Aindrea whimpers. “You… he screamed. Officer Jones screamed…”  


Aidan nods. “That thing sounded like an alarm…”  


Aindrea glances into the darkness from where they came. “Maybe we can use that to our advantage.”  


“Wha--”  


“If it makes a broadcast or drones like an alarm, that could be a sign it’s on our heels.” Aindrea looks at Aidan, her terrified eyes glinting with seriousness -- a seriousness much like a teacher disciplining their disciple.  


Aidan nods and slaps his hands to his knees, slowing his breathing. “We need to get out of here…”  


“What was your first clue?” Aindrea sneers, but her tone hints toward comedy. Aidan notices she has to be beyond frightened if she is trying to be comedic at a time like this…  


Aidan immediately straightens, his heart constricting as everything in the forest shuts off, so he grabs Aindrea’s arm. “Let’s keep moving!”  


“Where will we go?” Aindrea pants, letting herself ragdoll at Aidan’s athlete strength.  


“Maybe we can find a path!” Aidan breathes, looking frantic as he glances around him at the besetting darkness. “Maybe a watch tower, maybe someone else’s campsite, hell -- maybe a freeway at this point!”  


“Wait!” a soft voice calls.  


Aindrea’s heart jumps, and Aidan snaps his head to his left, but he continues to pull Aindrea along.  


“Aidan, stop! It's him!”  


“It could be that siren-headed monster, Aindrea!” Aidan hisses as she jerks him to a stop. His lungs painfully retract, the boy’s adrenaline reverberating throughout his veins as his friend hesitantly steps toward the darkness. The woods are still silent…  


“S… Seán…?” Aindrea calls softly, her breath wavering. “Is that you?”  


“Where are you?”  


“Here, bud.”  


Aidan clenches his teeth, running his fingers through his dark hair. “Aindrea…!”  


The girl shushes him aggressively. “Seán’s here… we need to take him! He’s here with that monster and we need to save him before it eats him, Aidan!”  


“Did you not hear that thing?” Aidan snaps softly, grabbing Aindrea’s wrist. She flinches and tries to lurch away, but his grip is iron. “It told the officer we’ll never find him, and on top of that, it called Seán to it… is it not clear they are working together, Aindrea?”  


“We don’t know that!” Aindrea snaps harshly. “It could’ve been trying to lure him, too!” Aindrea looks toward the blackness, in which the moonlight doesn’t penetrate. “Seán! We’re here, bud! Come with us!”  


“Come with me!” he calls.  


Aindrea purses her lips and narrows her eyes. Aidan screams before she can process the child’s call.  


Aindrea snaps and dark, warm liquid showering her front -- Aidan’s guttural screams silent. Aindrea freezes, her eyes the size of marbles as she feels the chilling liquid caress her skin. Her vision blurs, fear freezing her muscles as if they came into contact with liquid nitrogen. The siren-headed monster strangles Aidan’s limp body, the jagged teeth in its megaphones chomping at his flesh. Growls emanate from the other megaphone, the beast towering to its full height. The beast’s hungry megaphone slowly looks at Aindrea, its tongue whipping. Blood drips from its gums, its sickly fingers flexing.  


'How come we didn’t hear it? Where in the hell did it come from?'  


Its megaphones warble, a nearly indistinguishable word spewing from the drone; “Run.”  


Aindrea’s muscles suddenly ignite into action, broken from the monster’s spell, her legs straining and pushing her body further and further from the monster. Her breaths, choppy and sporadic, feeds the darkness around her and glances off the pines. Trees shriek and crack, the resonating sounds jolting her muscles and violating her eardrums.  


'It’s chasing me!'  


Aindrea’s chest ignites, her lungs spasming and a scream forcefully pries apart her lips. The scream sounds more inhuman, an iconic and shrill scream, but Aindrea’s mind believes she has called for help. Aindrea’s frantic mind seems to pass the time, her legs collapsing, her lungs stripped from power, and she tumbles through the leaves, sticks and dirt.  


She grunts, yelling in pain as sharp sticks lacerate her arms, face and abdomen. When she stops rolling, her body immediately relaxes against the leaves, too exhausted.  


'Get up!' Her mind screams at her, but her body remains paralyzed. Aindrea opens her eyes, her frantic breaths slowing. Her lungs spasm to receive fresh air and her muscles ache from the energetic movement; she is not used to sporadic movement, and she was never much of an athlete. Her fists clench, crinkling the leaves into smaller flecks like ash. She lifts her head, leaves and blood embellishing her hair.  


To give herself some form of strength, she reaches forward and grips at the grass. She pulls, using her other arm to push, and slowly crawls toward some bushes. 'I must take some cover… No!'  


Her mind blanks and her body stills as the trees above her sway, leaning as if not to touch the entity that looms above her. White noise calmly reverberates the air, and she feels the earth momentarily shake. Despite instinctively freezing, the back of her mind sings to her the cliché of the killer standing above its crawling victim. She knows it can see her, despite the soft noises it makes. Aindrea scrunches her eyes shut, her nose curling from the constriction of her eyelids, subconsciously shaking like the rattle of a rattlesnake. Unintentionally, Aindrea’s lungs detonate bursts of whimpers and sobs. Her conscious lectures that despite she won’t live, she shouldn’t express vulnerability to an unnatural predator.  


'Challenging it won’t work either…'  


The white noise resumes, but the siren-headed monster’s attack never comes. Aindrea waits for what seems like hours before she musters the courage to open her eyes. The moonlight lights the pines in her vision… and something else. Her heart jumps and her head jerks from the ground. She almost forgets about the monster that still stands above her, emitting white noise… almost.  


Aindrea snaps her head up, noticing the forty-foot tall behemoth’s tooth-filled megaphones were looking down -- not at her. It was looking at what she saw by the pines:  


Seán.  


Aindrea pushes her body up slowly, her jaw hanging. The boy only stares at her, the moon giving his skin a pale complexion, his dark hair almost at chin’s length. She notices how frizzy it is from the lack of care. The boy only dons ripped denim jeans, cut into shorts, the rest of his lightly built body exposed to the harsh wilderness of Colorado's forests. His eyes (Aindrea couldn’t tell the color) piercingly seem to glare at the girl, but his form isn’t tense.  


Aindrea tries to speak, but Seán’s soft, slightly Irish accented voice says, “Go away.” His right hand points to his side, his slender and thin arm almost abnormally bending the other direction by the strain of his outstretched limb. “We don’t need you here, he has had his fill. We want you out.”  


Aindrea sits up, stumbling up onto her legs. Her mouth remains widened with awe. “Wha-?” 'What kind of kid knows what this… monster wants? If it wants me out, then why did it try to kill me?'  


“He wants you dead,” Seán continues, and a mysterious tone underlies the kid’s voice. It was seriousness… too serious for a kid around ten. “I don’t care if you’re dead… I’m nice enough to let you go. Camp’s where I’m pointing… someone can help you.”  


Aindrea grits her teeth. “Seán… police are looking for you! It’s been two years!”  


“I’m better here, with my dad!” Seán blurts angrily. Aindrea jumps and she hears a vibrating growl vibrate the air through the white noise. “Now, go! Unless you have a death wish…” Seán lowers his arm, an eerie smile contorting his face.  


Aindrea’s heart sinks, realization hitting her. It’s too late for the boy… Although he still expresses normal emotions, his words has Aindrea realize he is, too, becoming a monster. She will not be able to persuade him to come, let alone be able to fend off a forty-foot humanoid beast. Yet, just by his tone, she recognizes intelligence… did this monster school the boy somehow?  


“Your dad…” Aindrea glances at the megaphone-headed beast, her heart freezing as it peers at her. Aindrea looks at Seán, her body tensing. “I’ll… I’ll go… I’ll leave you alone…”  


“Tell no one about us!” Seán snaps, and then his face softens. Suddenly his face hardens again, as fast as it had softened. “We’re just trying to survive…”  


Aindrea doesn’t put thought into it. They were allowing her freedom… the siren-headed monster was allowing her freedom… she can’t pass up on that. Like a lightning bolt, she sprinted into the direction Seán pointed. In spite of feeling freedom lick at her heels, her adrenaline still pumps and fear constricts her heart.  


Yet, the Siren Head doesn’t give chase; he and Seán only watch the girl disappear into darkness. Seán acknowledges Aindrea will either reach a campsite in time for help or will become food for the bears. He watches the besetting darkness with such intensity, listening to the silence the woods had to offer. His father’s movement interrupts the silence.  


Seán looks at Siren Head, his expression softening as the behemoth lowers its mummified hand. It’s teeth and tongue had mysteriously vanished; the megaphones now looked normal on the inside. Seán climbs onto the monster’s palm and then it lifts him to its prominent, wide shoulder. The calm, white noise emitting from Siren Head’s speakers causes the boy to smile, the sound relaxing the boy against its pole-like neck. He grips the black wires pressed onto Siren Head’s dry, rust-colored skin, holding on as the monster turns and silents its speakers. Siren Head treks its way slowly through the trees, its megaphones slightly taller than most of the trees, occasionally swiveling to scan the country.  
Seán also looks around, grinning at the quiet forest, the pointed tops of the pines, and the distant lights of the campgrounds. He looks at Siren Head’s megaphones, but the beast doesn’t look at him; it focuses ahead, using its hands to bend trees from its path.  


Seán looks at the distant campsites and almost glares at them, a frown ambushing his face. His perspective on his own kind has changed, now realizing how dangerous and careless they can become. He grew scared of them, he knows people are looking for him… and if they find him, they’ll take him away from the behemoth he calls his father. No, they can’t. They won’t. Siren Head will not allow that. Siren Head is Seán’s father.  


'I… belong to him.'


End file.
